


Funnel Of Love

by scarletmanuka



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Allergies, Anaphylaxis, First Kiss, First Time, Hurt Rodney McKay, M/M, Offworld romps, Pining, The universe is trying to kill McKay, There was only one bed!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 08:59:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19147789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletmanuka/pseuds/scarletmanuka
Summary: After having an allergic reaction on a mission, John attempts to take Rodney back to Atlantis for medical treatment. Then there's a tornado, and a crash landing, oh, and then there's only one sleeping bag...





	Funnel Of Love

John sat stiffly at the table in the archaic banquet hall, fighting tooth and nail to keep a scowl off of his face. Their hostess, Xannee - the matriarch of P4D-981 - was sitting next to him, chatting idly about the various crops that they grew here, hidden in the mountains. The valleys were fertile and allowed them to remain relatively well hidden from the Wraith, especially given the distance the settlement was from the ‘gate and the total lack of any technology. It was true that when they had arrived by Jumper through the ‘gate not a single one of Rodney’s toys, nor the Jumper’s sensors, picked up energy readings or signs of civilisation. If it weren’t for Teyla having had previous trade relations with the inhabitants, they would have quickly written off the planet as uninhabited.

Teyla had shown them how to signal the population and the three hour wait for a response was spent watching the sky as dark clouds raced overhead, the wind picked up, and it began to rain. By the time a delegation from Xannee’s people arrived, it was clear that a major storm was on its way. It had taken a while for Teyla to convince the delegation to overcome their fear of technology and join them in the Jumper but the return trip to their settlement only took twenty minutes and they remained dry as rain battered the windscreen. Xannee greeted Teyla warmly and after the introductions were made, she invited the team to join her people for their annual End Of Harvest feast, saying that they would meet in the morning to negotiate a trade.

The entire village had been friendly and welcoming, and as John watched Xannee’s attractive daughter, Cara, flirt outrageously with McKay across the table from him, he couldn’t help but think that they were a little _too_ friendly. McKay had been uncomfortable under the woman’s scrutiny at first but after two cups of the local moonshine, he’d relaxed enough to engage in conversation with her. He was now explaining how the dense iron deposits in the mountains were what blocked the Wraith’s scanners and prevented them from finding the settlement and Cara was nodding enthusiastically, her bright green eyes wide and beautiful in the flickering candlelight. She dropped a hand under the table and McKay suddenly squawked, his knee banging against the underside painfully, his cheeks flushing red. Cara smirked but didn't remove her hand.

“Careful,” Ronon murmured from John’s right.

“Huh?” he grunted in response, not really listening.

“If looks could kill, Sheppard, she’d be decomposing already.” When John still didn’t respond, Ronon nudged him painfully in the ribs. “You’re scowling,” he hissed when John turned to glare at him.

“Oh.”

“Might want to tone it down a bit or you might offend them.”

“Right.” John bristled a little at allowing his emotions to get the best of him and needing Ronon of all people to pull him back into line, and he carefully schooled his expression into something more neutral. Xannee was now speaking to Teyla and John was glad for the break. They might not be negotiating until the morning but everything that he did between now and then could affect how the trade went and being pissed at the Matriarch’s daughter was definitely not going to help their cause. Given that McKay had every right to ‘play Kirk’ as he put it, John knew that he was being ridiculous but he found that he just couldn’t help himself. Somehow, somewhere along the line, he’d found that he’d grown attached to the snarky scientist.

That revelation had taken him by surprise, not only because he’d never found himself attracted to a man before, but also because McKay wasn’t exactly an overly likeable person. John had figured that if he developed feelings for someone here in Pegasus, it would be for Weir or Teyla, or one of the female scientists who worked for McKay - not for the scientist himself. There was just something about McKay though that had grown on John; at first developing into a friendship and then something... _more._ Yeah, he was prickly and sarcastic, and John could attest to the fact that his bedside manner absolutely sucked but he was also honest and funny, and when one of the team was injured, he could be found _at their bedside_. Usually he was berating them for doing something stupid (like ignoring his warnings that had led to the injury in the first place) but that was bred from fear for his teammates whom he genuinely cared about.

The Pegasus galaxy had proven to be brutal at times, with danger always on the horizon and someone always trying to double cross them. John figured that his preferred taste in partners from back on Earth would be skewed after his experiences here and so soft, gentle lovers who needed to be protected and cherished no longer did it for him. He realised that he wanted someone who still got scared but bravely did what needed to be done anyway, who could take care of not only themselves but would also have John’s back too, and who understood just how important loyalty was. McKay fit that description and more.

Since his epiphany, John hadn’t acted on it at all. His eyes may have lingered a little longer on his teammate, and he might have laughed a little louder when McKay said something particularly funny, but there was no way that he was going to chance ruining not only their friendship but also their working relationship over a crush that he had no idea if McKay would ever even reciprocate. He’d always assumed that McKay was straight but given that John had gotten that wrong about himself, that didn't mean anything, but it still wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. So he pined, and he watched, and apparently he scowled when pretty women flirted with McKay but he did nothing, and he had thought that no one had figured out how he felt. Ronon had disabused him of that idea several weeks ago when he’d caught John’s eyes lingering on McKay’s ass during training one day but the big warrior had taken it in his stride. He teased John occasionally but mostly he just nudged him when he noticed that John was distracted or, like today, feeling particularly possessive.

Several women appeared at the table, arms laden with dishes and soon a wooden plate was placed in front of John. Nestled on some sort of leafy green vegetable, not unlike cabbage leaves, was some sort of meat and sauce, faintly pink in colour. “This is a traditional dish,” Xannee explained with a smile, speaking loudly to be heard above the sound of the rain that was hammering on the roof of the hall. “We have several herds of Calah that we farm for meat and this dish uses a sweet but spicy fruit, called a Talb, for the sauce.”

“Calah look a bit like those beer things you get on Earth,” Ronon told John, already tucking into his food.

“You mean deer?”

“Yeah, those things,” Ronon agreed, waving his fork in the air.

John nodded and scooped up some of the stew himself. He blew on it before popping it into his mouth, amazed at the tangy, spicy taste. Then his eyes widened and he looked over to McKay who was already shovelling food into his mouth. Before John could even say anything, McKay dropped his fork, and looked up in horror, his hands flying to his throat. “Shit, shit, shit,” John cursed and he jumped to his feet. They were sat in the middle of a table in the banquet hall and it stretched from one end of the hall to the other. John didn’t bother hurrying down and around it, he simply vaulted the table and half shoved Cara out of the way so he could crouch in front of McKay. “Hey there, buddy. You got your EpiPen on you?” he asked soothingly, getting directly to the point. If there was one thing that pissed McKay off, it was asking pointless questions like _‘Are you having an allergic reaction?’_ when the evidence was right in front of them.

Nodding, McKay pawed at one of the pockets on his tac vest and John quickly got it out. He tried not to panic at how quickly McKay’s throat was swelling, or the small gasping noises he made as he struggled to breathe, just uncapped the pen and pressed it against the outside of his thigh. There was a click as he administered the epinephrine and then John immediately moved back a little, giving McKay some space.

“What’s happening?” Cara asked, crowding closer. “Will he be alright?”

John held up a hand to keep her back and then he reached forward and began to loosen the straps on the tac vest to help his teammate breathe. “He’s had an allergic reaction to the Talb,” he explained. “He has a deadly allergy to citrus fruit and it appears that Talb has similar allergens to that.”

Xannee had risen to her feet, along with most of the people in the hall, and she was watching John and McKay with a worried expression on her face. “Will he recover?”

John nodded but didn’t take his eyes off of McKay. “He should do. We don’t have a second EpiPen on us so I’ll need to get him back to Atlantis for further treatment since it was such a severe reaction but it’s already calming down now.” Although his face was still bright red, McKay’s breathing was not as laboured as it had been, even a minute ago so John took that as a good sign.

“Shall I radio back to base, Colonel Sheppard?” Teyla asked. “Tell them to expect us back?”

John thought for a moment and then shook his head. “There’s no point in all of us returning. Once he’s stabilised, I’ll take McKay back in the Jumper while you and Ronon stay here. That way if I’m delayed in getting back because of this storm, you two can commence with the trade negotiation in the morning.”

Teyla nodded. “Understood, Colonel.”

He turned to Xannee and gave her his most charming smile. “You have my most earnest apologies, Lady Xannee for this change in plans. I do hope you won’t hold it against us?”

She shook her head. “No, of course not. Your first priority should be to your people and their health. Teyla and I are old acquaintances and we can surely come to an arrangement.”

“Well I appreciate your understanding,” he told her, trying not to feel too smug about the obvious disappointment on Cara’s face.

“We may be a remote community, Colonel Sheppard,” Xannee said, “but even we have heard of the might of Atlantis. It would be beneficial to both of our people for us to come to an agreement.”

They waited another ten minutes until the symptoms of the attack had mostly passed and McKay was breathing much easier. “Come on, McKay, let’s get you to the Jumper,” John said and wrapped an arm around McKay’s waist to haul him to his feet, being careful not to jostle him too much.

Teyla and Ronon accompanied them to the Jumper despite the driving rain, assuring John that the trade negotiations were in good hands, and then once McKay had been helped into the co-pilot’s seat, they bade them farewell, leaving the two men alone. “How are you feeling? Need anything?” John asked softly as he ran his pre-flight checks, the Jumper blocking out most of the noise of the raging storm.

“I thought I’d gotten lucky, coming to a galaxy completely free of citrus but _no_ , of _course_ there has to be some native damn equivalent,” McKay spat, his arms waving about in dismay, though not quite as energetically as usual. “It’s just my damn luck, the entire universe just seems to want me dead! Is it too much to ask for a break? Just a small one? Just one day where something doesn’t try to kill me and deny the universe my genius?”

If McKay could manage to complain, John figured that the worst had passed and so he gave a sympathetic hum and began powering up the Jumper. As they began to lift off, a huge gust of wind rocked the Jumper, powerfully enough that the inertial dampeners couldn’t suppress the force if it.

McKay stopped talking immediately and turned to John with wide eyes. “It’s pretty bad out there,” he almost squeaked.

John shrugged. “Nothing I haven’t flown in before.”

“Are you sure we should? Maybe we should stay here until it blows over?”

He regarded the scientist steadily. “Tell me, McKay, how are you _actually_ feeling? Because I just saw you have a pretty major anaphylactic reaction and I know that that’s not something you can just brush off.”

His lips pressed into thin lines and McKay wouldn’t meet John’s eyes. “I’m fine.”

 _“Rodney,”_ John chided, feeling a small thrill go through him at using McKay’s first name. “The truth now.”

Huffing, McKay pulled down the collar of his shirt. “Fine, it’s not great, okay?” His throat and what John could see of his collarbones were covered in angry looking hives.

“And?” he pressed.

“And it still hurts to breathe,” McKay admitted.

_“And?”_

McKay made a frustrated noise and glared at John. “Damn you, Sheppard! Fine, _and_ I feel like I’ve gone four rounds with Teyla and then have had to face off against Ronon. Happy?”

John frowned. “Of course I’m not _happy_ , McKay - I don’t like it when you’re miserable, for Christ’s sake. It’s just that now isn’t the time for you to suddenly get all stoic about your health. You run to Carson every time you stub your toe - having you suddenly brush off an anaphylactic reaction is a little worrisome.”

“No, Sheppard, what’s _worrisome_ is that we’re flying through a God damn _hurricane_ right now!” He gestured angrily to the sky outside and as if on cue, lightning lit up the sky.

Despite the fact that the tendons in his forearms were straining with the controls to keep her steady, John dismissed McKay’s concerns. “Pfft, this is nothing. We’ll be fine.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that” McKay barked, and he pointed out the windshield.

John peered into the distance and then he saw it. He swore but kept the Jumper held steady for now, watching the massive funnel ahead of them.

“What are you doing?” McKay squawked. “You’re flying right at it!”

“No, I’m trying to determine if I can see if it’s moving or not,” John said between gritted teeth.

“What? Why does that matter?”

“Because, Rodney,” John replied, as patiently as possible with a fucking _tornado_ in their path, “if I can’t tell if it’s moving then it’s either moving directly towards us or away from us and that’s a fifty fifty chance of it being bad for us.”

“Or you could just fly in the opposite fucking direction!” McKay yelled.

“Do you want to drive?” John demanded, taking his hands off the controls. The Jumper rocked violently and McKay’s face went white, the hives on his skin standing out in stark contrast. He shook his head vehemently so John retook the controls. “That’s what I thought. Now shut up and let me fly.”

As theatrical as McKay was when he bitched that the universe was trying to kill him, there did seem to be some merit to his hypothesis. It became almost immediately apparent that the tornado was coming towards them at an alarming rate and John had only a moment to take a breath before he began ducking and weaving through the air, dodging the debris that was being flung around by the winds, trying to maneuver the Jumper into a turn. If they had been above a plain, they would have likely been okay, but the mountains below them offered further obstacles to dodge and at one point they banked sharply to avoid a tree trunk that was flying right at them only to have to pull up sharply as a cliff face appeared directly in front of them.

John couldn’t even spare a moment to check on McKay, to see how he was faring as he struggled to keep them in the air. From this close he could hardly see the funnel of the tornado now, lost as it was amidst the swirling rain and debris. He tried to keep one eye on the HUD, completely lost himself as to what direction he was flying in now. It seemed that every time he managed to start to put a little distance between them and the tornado, he’d be forced to change direction to avoid some hazard or another and he’d be back to square one.

Finally though, John spied a clear patch of air and he gunned the Jumper, darting towards it and safety. He let out the breath that he was holding and pried one of his hands off the controls, his knuckles hurting from being clenched so tightly. “Well, that was fun,” he drawled, glancing over at McKay who was still ashen faced but already pulling up diagnostics, checking for damage.

“If that’s your idea of fun, Sheppard,” McKay snarked, “then I’m telling you -”

He didn’t get to finish telling John however as the Jumper was suddenly jerked backwards, jolting them violently in their seats. “What the hell?” John cried.

McKay managed to haul himself forward so he could see the sensors and he peered at the display. “Shit, we’re being sucked into the funnel!”

“Dammit, I thought I’d gotten us clear!”

“Well clearly not! Get us out!”

“I’m trying!”

“Try harder!”

“I _am_ , McKay!”

There was no more time to argue as the Jumper was sent into a spin, being dragged up, up, up into the funnel. The inertial dampners stopped them from being flung about, but it was only years of flying that kept the contents of John’s stomach down as he watched the horizon flip around dizzily outside the windshield. Despite their predicament, McKay continued to monitor the sensors even though most of the other ‘gate team scientists would have closed their eyes and hung on for dear life.

Then the power died, and with it, the dampners.

Without even thinking, John threw an arm out, keeping McKay pinned to the chair, even though the force of the Gs they were pulling as they were flung around kept them in their seats. “Hold tight, Rodney,” he called.

McKay didn’t bother making a sarcastic remark, but he did reach up and clasp at John’s arm. They watched helplessly as they were flung higher and higher into the air, and then suddenly they were free of the funnel and sailing through the open air like a rock. Then gravity took over and they were plummeting downwards, the ground rushing to meet them with alarming speed.

Then there was nothing.

oOoOo

Something cold was dripping right onto John’s face and he slowly blinked his eyes open. Completely disorientated, he looked around, trying to get his bearings. It took a moment to figure out where he was, since he didn’t often see the Jumper from this vantage point - namely from the roof. Kind of. More sideways, he supposed. The windshield was cracked and water was dripping through it and directly onto him. John groaned and shook his head, then began the laborious process of trying to get to his feet.

The interior of the Jumper was dark without the lights, and he peered through the gloom, trying to make out where McKay had ended up. They had gotten into the bad habit of relying on the inertial dampeners and not the seat restraints but as this had proved, they needed to reprioritise. McKay had been flung into the rear compartment, and was lying half draped over a crate that had come loose in the crash. John stumbled over to him, making sure to not slip on the roof, and he crouched down next to him. “McKay? Come on, buddy, time to wake up. McKay?” he gently shook his shoulder and then tried again, a little more urgently this time. Up close he could see a nasty gash across McKay’s forehead. “McKay, you gotta wake up, come on now. _Rodney!_ ”

With a groan, McKay finally came round and he stared up, dazed at John. “John? Hey.” He gave a crooked little smile, which set John’s stomach fluttering, and tried to sit up. “Ow,” he groaned. “What’s wrong?”

“We kinda crashed.”

“Kinda? How do we _kinda_ crash?”

“ _Fine_ , if you’re gonna be pedantic about it, we _totally_ crashed.”

“Hmph.” McKay looked around the Jumper. “Are we upside down?”

“That we are.”

“I see. And is that water leaking inside?”

“Yep, sure is.”

“John?”

“Yes, Rodney?” he asked, wishing that they’d use each other’s first names more often.

“Are we underwater?”

John’s head whipped around so he could see out the windshield and as he concentrated, the view outside became more and more clear. “Huh, so we are.”

“Oh, God,” McKay groaned. “Trying to kill me, I’m telling you - the universe is trying to kill me.”

“I’m not going to let you die, Rodney,” John assured him.

“How are you going to do that? Seeing as there’s water pouring inside so we’ll _drown_ soon!”

It was a testament to how much the anaphylactic reaction had affected McKay that he couldn’t immediately see the solution. John tried not to sound condescending when he explained, “Cos we’re going to pop the manual door release and swim to the surface.”

“How deep are we? Will we make it to the surface?”

“I’m not sure but it’s better than staying here and drowning for sure, isn’t it?”

McKay swallowed loudly. “I guess,” he said and then fidgeted nervously. In a small voice, that made him sound more vulnerable than John had ever heard him before, he admitted, “I’m not a strong swimmer, John. What if I don’t make it?”

John clasped McKay’s upper arm and gave it an encouraging squeeze. “You’ll definitely make it because I’m not going to let you go, okay?”

“Really?”

“Really. Now give me a minute to get together a few things and then we’ll go.”

He rummaged through the various compartments in the rear of the Jumper, but found that several of them were jammed shut and he didn't have the time to spare to pry them open. He found one survival pack that contained a sleeping bag, a small cooking stove, some MREs, powerbars, a canteen, first aid kit, and various other supplies and he threw in some radios, the life signs detector, a couple of flares, and one of their tracking beacons. He found a rope and tied it to his waist and connected the other end to McKay, pulling it tight. “In case we get separated in the current,” he explained. He was pretty sure that they were in one of the lakes, and not the river that flowed closer to the ‘gate, but it wouldn’t hurt to be sure. “You ready?” he asked.

McKay nodded, pulling himself up straighter, his jaw set in determination. It was obvious that he was terrified but McKay being McKay, he wasn’t about to shy away from the danger they faced. John grasped McKay’s arm firmly and then went to the door, ready to push it open, and nodded to him and McKay took a deep breath and then popped the manual release.

Water poured in through the hatch, almost forcing them off their feet, but John clung to the wall until the pressure had equalised, and then he pushed off, still gripping tight to McKay and powered through the water.

There were flashes of light in the distance and John was sure that it was lightning so he headed towards it, hoping against hope that it indeed was the surface and not some weird alien bioluminescence. The water got choppier and choppier as they neared the surface as the storm raged overhead and his grip on McKay’s arm slipped. He darted out and caught McKay’s hand, then linked their fingers together to keep them joined. He kicked out once more, feeling like they were barely moving upwards at all, his chest beginning to burn. John hated to think how McKay was faring since he’d been having trouble difficulty breathing already, and as he kicked again he could feel McKay kicking furiously as well, propelling them upwards.

After what felt like an eternity, they broke the surface of the water, both gulping in huge lungfuls of air as they trode water to stay afloat. John wiped at his face with his free hand and peered about, spotting the shore not too far away. He tugged on McKay’s hand to indicate which direction they needed to go and then they reluctantly let it go as they began swimming, unable to stop and rest until they’d made it to safety.

Once they had washed up on the small, rocky beach, John got to his feet and pulled out his night vision goggles as McKay lay on the shore, catching his breath. The mountains rose high into the sky around them, channeling the freezing wind, making him shiver violently. There was a dark opening not far up the slope of the nearest peak and he hoped that it might be some sort of cave or at least an overhang where they could shelter from the weather.

“Come on, let’s go,” he called over the noise of the storm, reaching down to grasp McKay’s hand once more.

The scientist didn't look happy to be on his feet again but he didn’t complain, just allowed John to tug him forward and followed. The ground was slippery and even with the small torch John had brought along, they stumbled over fallen branches and other debris strewn about by the storm. It took them almost an hour to reach the slope that they were heading for, the howling wind and driving rain never abating. Luckily the tornado seemed to have dissipated but John kept a wary eye on the sky anyhow, worried that another might form. They found one last reserve of energy and began the steep climb but their efforts paid off as they came across the narrow entrance to a cave. John had almost expected McKay to balk at the dark, dank area but he was clearly just as cold and exhausted as John was himself as he hurried inside without complaint. The cave wasn’t overly deep but it opened up a little after the narrow entrance, providing a nice windbreak and would keep them dry at least.

The first thing John did was clean and dress the gash to McKay’s forehead. It wasn't deep but face wounds always bled like a bitch and the last thing they needed was for him to go into hypovolemic shock. Then he handed McKay a powerbar to take care of his blood sugar levels and then pulled out a radio to try and make contact with Teyla and Ronon. All he got was static but he wasn’t sure if it was the storm blocking the signal or the iron deposits in the mountains. Once the storm had passed, he’d try again, even if it meant hiking up until he got back into range.

McKay had slumped down onto a large boulder and his head was drooping as he began to nod off. John hurried forwards and took him by both arms. “Hey, hey, wakey wakey.”

“G’way,” McKay tried to wave him off. “M’tired.”

“I know, buddy, but you can’t sleep yet. We gotta get out of these wet clothes, otherwise we’ll freeze to death.”

He looked blearily up at John. “W’ll freeze naked too.”

“No we won’t. Trust me, I’ll look after us. Come on, up you get. Start by getting out of your jacket.”

It took a long moment, but McKay finally stood up and slowly began to work at the fastenings to his jacket. Knowing that he couldn't allow himself to get distracted by the impromtu strip tease, John pulled the sleeping bag out of the water proof bag that it was in and rolled it out, trying to find the flatest, softed bit of rock that he could. The wind had blown inside dry leaves that had piled up against the far wall of the cave and he spread them out and then lay the bag on top of them, hoping that it would cushion them even a little. By now, McKay had managed to get his jacket off, and John passed him a bottle of water, making him take a drink. As he did, John began to strip out of his own wet clothes until he was down to his boxers and he draped them across several rocks, hoping that they’d dry somewhat overnight. Shivering, he turned back and saw McKay struggling with his belt, and when he moved closer, he could hear the scientist’s teeth chattering. “Here, let me,” he said softly and deftly undid the belt, slipping it from the loops. Feverently wishing that he was getting to undress McKay under different - and sexier - circumstances, he helped him strip out of the rest of his clothes until he too was down to his boxers (striped cotton ones as opposed to John’s red silk ones).

“Okay, come on, climb in,” John said, lifting the flap of the sleeping bag.

McKay frowned at it. “‘s it gonna be big ‘nough?” His words were beginning to slur and worry burned in John’s gut. McKay had taken a battering today, first with the allergic reaction, then the crash and head injury, and finally the exposure to freezing water and the elements. He needed medical attention but the best John could do right now was to get him warm and make him rest. “It’ll be a tight squeeze but we’ll fit. We’ll have you snug as a bug in no time.”

“m’not a bug,” McKay protested but he climbed into the sleeping bag and shuffled over until he was as far over as he could get.

John chuckled and then propped the torch up against a nearby rock so he could get in himself. It took some wriggling and a lot of tugging to get the zipper done up but soon they were encased in the sleeping bag, plastered against one another. “Hi,” he said, unable to help the smile that tugged at his lips as he found himself nose to nose with McKay.

“Hey,” McKay answered, looking dazed.

Any fantasies of having an off-world romp quickly drained from John’s mind as it became increasingly obvious that McKay was not at all cognizant. He pushed all the inappropriate thoughts from his head (which was hard work when he had a nearly naked McKay pressed against him) and reached over to turn the torch off. “Try and get some sleep, okay.”

“Mmm, s’cold.”

“I know, but we’ll warm up soon enough.” He risked slipping an arm over McKay’s waist and did his best not to flinch from the cold skin beneath his arm.

McKay sighed at the touch, John’s skin feeling warm in comparison to his own, and he moved closer until he was snuggled right up against John’s chest.“Thanks for lookin’ after me,” he murmured, already almost asleep.

“Always,” John promised, almost certain that McKay wouldn't remember the conversation in the morning. “I’ll always take care of you, Rodney.”

A soft snore was all the response he got.

oOoOo

John slept very little that night. He told himself that it was because they were on an alien planet in a cave that anything could live in (even though it was less than eight meters deep and didn’t house a pile of chewed bones). He also told himself that it was so that he would be awake if Atlantis or Teyla and Ronon tried to radio in (even though he was conditioned to the beep of the radio now and it woke him better than an alarm). In the very early hours of the morning, he had to face facts and admit to himself that he couldn't sleep because he was essentially in bed with McKay. The chances of that happening again were slim to none and so he needed to commit every second to memory, enjoy every tiny movement, every soft snore, each puff of hot breath against his skin. McKay was also unwell and so John found himself listening intently to his breathing, ensuring that there was no rattle of breath in his lungs, no difficulties, no struggles to draw breath. John was a chaotic mixture of arousal, contentment, and worry and there was no way in hell that he was going to sleep.

By the time pink sunlight began to suffuse the entrance to the cave, John had come to the conclusion that this was sheer torture. McKay had rolled even further towards him during the night and had slipped a leg between John’s knee, and his arm was sitting heavy across his ribs. The worst part however was that John could feel the very distinct press of McKay’s morning wood against his hip. He knew that McKay would be mortified if he woke up in such a situation and so as carefully as he could, John began to slowly extract himself from the embrace. He moved his leg, which rubbed against McKay’s hard cock and the scientist moaned low in his throat.

John’s breath hitched and he dearly wanted to hear that sound again, but he couldn't take the chance of McKay waking up, of being so embarrassed that he refused to work with John at all. He knew that he couldn’t have McKay in that way, a romantic way, but he couldn't lose him completely either. He made another attempt to move away, and McKay clamped his thigh down harder against John and then he began to grind unconsciously against him.

Yep. Absolute torture.

He wanted to _touch_ so badly but there was no way that he would betray McKay’s trust like that. John stayed completely still, hoping that soon the movement would stop and McKay would roll away from him and then he could leave and not think about this again - except for those private moments, alone in his quarters.

Instead, there was a sleepy, softly moaned, “ _John_.”

That was the final straw. He couldn’t stay here any longer, he needed to be as far away from temptation as possible. More forcibly, John began to extract himself, but McKay wouldn't let him go, and his hips continued to thrust against John, and dammit but he could feel the wet patch on McKay’s boxers.

Then there was another murmur but it was clear that McKay was awake now. “Please, please John, feels so good. Just let me have this, please.”

“Rodney? Are you really awake?”

McKay turned his face and buried it against John’s shoulder. “Yes,” he admitted, and yet still his hips never ceased.

“What are you doing?” John whispered, needing it spelled out for him, needing to know that McKay was fully aware of what he was doing before he joined in.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but please, please don't make me stop. If you never want to talk to me again, I’ll understand but God, it feels so good.”

“Wait, wait, wait - _you want me?_ ”

Then McKay stopped and he drew back as much as he could, his shoulders slumped in shame. When he spoke, his voice was broken. “I’m so sorry, John. Please don’t hate me. I know this is wrong of me, I’m sorry, I just can’t help it, please -”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Rodney - would you shut up and kiss me?”

McKay’s mouth dropped open in shock but John just leaned forward and captured it in a kiss. They both had terrible morning breath but he didn't care and a moment later when McKay began to reciprocate, it was clear that neither did he. The kiss quickly turned frantic and all of a sudden their boxers - which during the night had felt to John like nowhere near enough clothes between them - were suddenly too much and he shoved a hand down into the tight confines of the sleeping bag, trying to push them down their hips. They both squirmed and shimmied until their cocks were free and when the silky, hot flesh of McKay’s length brushed against John’s, he struggled to not come on the spot.

“John!” McKay gasped and bit down on his shoulder - hard.

“Fuck, want you so bad,” John murmured as he titled his head to one side, baring his throat.

McKay made instant use of the access and he licked and nipped his way over the column of John’s throat, moving up until he was tugging John’s earlobe in between his teeth, his tongue flicking out to tease it. John was sure that previous partners had done the same but for some reason it felt like McKay had unlocked a previously unfound erogenous zone and he cried out and pulsed, hot and sticky, over their stomachs.

“Oh God, that’s so fucking hot,” McKay said breathlessly and in the brightening light his pupils were dilated with lust. Any embarrassment John might have felt for blowing his load faster than a high schooler disappeared under that gaze. McKay ground his hips more furiously against John’s, his cock dragging through the slickness between them and it was almost too much for John, his cock sensitive and almost sore, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop McKay. With a grunt, McKay came, adding his own spunk to the mess between them and they collapsed, boneless against each other, breathing hard.

“Wow,” McKay said, slightly dazed once they had calmed down.

“Yeah,” was John’s articulate reply.

It mustn’t have been enough as McKay went stiff beside him and tried to inch away from him. “I, uh, I guess you’ll want to pretend this never happened, huh?” he said, trying for nonchalant but failing miserably. “What happens on P4D-981 stays on P4D-981, right?”

The way McKay’s voice choked up at the end made John’s heart clench and he gently cupped his jaw and turned his head so he could look in his eyes. “I really, really hope not,” he said, crap at talking about his feelings but knowing that he needed to make an attempt, to ensure that they were on the same page. “It would make all the pining I’ve done over you for the past, I dunno, year and a bit, seem pretty pointless if nothing came of it.”

“Pining? Really?” McKay asked, hope flickering in his eyes.

“Yes, Rodney, pining.”

“For me?”

“Yes, for you.”

“Seriously, pining? Like in those terrible romance novels that Cadman has that she’ll lend out in exchange for candy bars?”

John’s eyes narrowed. “Are you insinuating that I’m a blushing damsel, Rodney?”

“I - oh, no! No, not at all. I’m sure your pining was very um, manly.”

“You know, I’m trying to be honest and heartfelt here and you’re not making it very easy.”

“To be fair, I’m not too sure if I’m hallucinating all of this thanks to a combination of my allergic reaction and subsequent head injury.”

John’s fingers found one of McKay’s nipples and he tweaked it, not so gently, even as he dove in for a deep, tongue tangling kiss. He was breathing heavily and was half hard again when he pulled back. “Does that feel like a hallucination to you?” he demanded.

“Uh, no, not really,” McKay admitted, “but, you know, just to be sure perhaps you’d better do it again?”

John grinned. “Just to be sure.”

The radio crackled to life an hour later, and an hour after that, a Jumper was setting down at the bottom of the slope, with Lorne leading the rescue mission and an anxious Carson following him. By that time, John had had adequate time to prove to McKay - several times - that he wasn't hallucinating, and that this was very, very real and if that meant that the sleeping bag would likely need to be thoroughly washed and sanitised before it could be used again, well that was a small price to pay.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a late bloomer - this is my first SGA fic. Please be kind. 
> 
> Oh, and my research shows that, though rare, there can totally be tornadoes in mountain country. Funky.


End file.
